Rust Is the Colour of My True Love's Hair
by LoveIsATemple
Summary: Caroline wants a dog. Klaus doesn't. But when the old, brooding Original hears something in the woods one night, he just might change his mind. AU, rated for a bit of language and brief (so brief) suggestiveness. One-Shot.


**A/N: I don't even remember the last time I wrote anything. I know it's been months, though, and for that, I am truly sorry. Short story short, I suffered a wrist/hand injury near the end of term and couldn't really do anything with my right hand. I only just got the okay from my doctor to move it last week, and I've been steadily writing more and more as the pain decreases.**

 **Because so much time has gone by since I updated anything, my inspiration has somewhat died. So, think of this one-shot as a writing exercise to get myself back in the game! It's cheesy, about a dog, and I hope you all enjoy it!**

 **In this story, Hayley and the baby do not exist. Just in case you were wondering where that whole storyline was.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING! Even the title, which is taken from the folk song "Black Is the Colour of My True Love's Hair." Though I recommend listening Nina Simone's jazz take on it.**

* * *

 _"I thought I saw you out there crying,_

 _I thought I heard you call my name."_

 _Lost Stars | Adam Levine/Keira Knightly (_ Begin Again _)_

* * *

 **Rust Is the Colour of My True Love's Hair**

After her mother passed, and once the grief attached to such an unavoidable tragedy decided to leave her poor soul alone, Caroline became obsessed with dogs.

All dogs. Big ones and small ones, and, for some odd reason, even the hairless ones. She cooed over the mutts with no clear ancestry and the thoroughbreds with snotty owners who pulled their dog away the moment Caroline attempted to pet the poor suckers. As if the innocent blond lady was covered with fleas. Oh, how he wished he could snap those people's necks.

Each dog was like a new discovery for her young eyes, and every time she went by one, she felt the need to tug his arm and lead them over to the beast. Her body would relax when they reached the animal. Her skin would glow and her heart would thump steadily, suddenly increasing—of course—when the dog sniffed her and licked her and begged her to scratch its belly, its back, its neck.

He never understood the attraction to dogs. Or to animals in general, really. They were pointless, just things you got attached to that eventually would either die, bite you, or run away.

He could appreciate the bigger ones. Marvel at their speed and agility. Their teeth. But he never went to the zoo to see them in person, not even when Caroline asked him. And it wasn't because he didn't want to please Caroline. Since her mother's death, he'd wanted nothing more than to please her day and night. But because he saw no point in going. Especially considering the twisted relationship Caroline had with animals. Sometimes they were her meals. Who, in their right mind, wanted to visit a place where their food was on display, tied up in cages and unable to escape?

Caroline loved a good chase, and he worried that her bloodlust might get the better of her, and maybe one day the cuddly animals she so adored might begin to lose their cuteness and morph into targets only her vampire side could capture and kill.

So he ignored her puppy fever. As difficult as it was, he closed his eyes when she excitedly showed him pictures of pit bulls and of toy poodles. He refused to pet the dogs at the park along with her, and sternly said no when she tried to pull him into the pet stores or the shelters. He put his walls high up when she pouted, kissed her lips with a weak smile when she threatened taking sex away from the relationship if he didn't give in, and hugged her close when sad tears built in her gorgeous blue eyes.

He wasn't heartless. God knew, with Caroline by his side he could never be heartless. He just didn't want to break her any more than she had already been broken. His refusal stemmed from concern for her, not from some malicious part of him intent on making her life miserable. Because he knew why she wanted a dog. Her mother was dead. Her friends had stopped talking to her after she packed her bags and moved to New Orleans a mere two days after the tragedy. All she wanted was a filler for the missing pieces in her shattered heart, and a dog would be the perfect filler.

But he also knew that the dog would die someday. It would leave her just the same as her mother, as her friends, her father. Puppies were a temporary fix. And he needed, so badly needed, something more than temporary.

* * *

"And you're sure they hadn't gotten a chance to talk to any other witches? Positive this was nothing more than a measly attempt to overthrow the balance of power?"

Klaus paced in his office, looking up at Elijah every now and again with a new question regarding the recent attempt at an uprise within New Orleans. It happened rarely. Since he and Marcel ended their feud months prior (which, to Klaus's delight, consisted of Marcel running far, far away with his tail between his legs) there rarely was any trouble in the Louisiana city. But, of course, there were a few setbacks. Nothing major, nothing that really set his hair on-end—but each threat to the tranquility he had created to ensure Caroline's safety boiled the blood that sluggishly made its way through his old, weary veins.

The sun was beginning to set, coating the room in a surprisingly beautiful shade of pale orange. He found himself doing that more and more since Caroline moved to be with him, finding things "beautiful" where once he would have just written them off. Now he felt the need to appreciate the sunset.

He was turning into the cheesiest man on earth.

"I'm sure, brother. It was a small group of witches," Elijah assured him.

Klaus stopped pacing and went to stand by the window. His office was on the second floor of the house he and Caroline had picked out one year and three months ago to the day. Not that he was counting. It was the smallest room in the five bedroom mini-mansion, which wasn't exactly saying much.

The floor was covered in Caroline-picked carpet, which she said was necessary for an office. The colour was a pearly white, though, so he assumed her insistence on having the carpet put in was her way of trying to stop him from killing anyone. Blood stains were hell.

She was smart, he had to give her that. The carpet always stayed clean, even when he had the overwhelming urge to rip someone's head off.

Basking in the sun, Klaus allowed his brother's words to soothe him. It was a small threat made by some stupid witches. Worrying about Caroline was pointless.

Lowly, Klaus asked, "Have they been dealt with?"

There was a pause. Klaus turned around expectantly. He had little patience for anyone—Caroline aside—even his own brother.

He raised his eyebrows. "Well?"

Elijah, dressed in his typical attire (suit, tie, shoes that cost more than the house), nodded slowly.

"She's not here, Elijah. You can tell me if they're dead," Klaus said, aware that Elijah was keeping quiet out of fear.

Caroline, saint that she was, often listened in on these meetings. And she usually ended up barging into the office, demanding to know why people were being slaughtered.

Nobody ever slept well after Caroline Forbes had yelled at them. Not Originals, and, if he was being honest, _especially_ not him.

Klaus smirked as Elijah visibly relaxed. "Yes, they are dead. Necks were snapped and bodies were burned," Elijah informed him, looking rather pleased with himself.

The hybrid assumed Elijah had acted alone in the killings, which meant that he too was looking out for Caroline.

"Good work," Klaus congratulated, offering a small smile to his hardworking older brother. Anybody who was helping keep Caroline safe deserved some sort of reward.

Nodding sagely, Elijah offered the same, somewhat painful-looking smile. "Thank you, brother," he acknowledged, turning to walk out the room. "I will see you tomorrow."

And with that, the vampire disappeared.

Klaus went back to the window. The sun had descended further behind the trees surrounding the house, but there remained a pinky-orange glow. He distantly heard the front door close and saw a brief blip disturbing the flowerbeds Caroline had planted last spring, when the weather warmed up enough for her to dig through the soil.

Spring was nearly over now. Days were getting longer, black clouds were filling the sky with thunderstorms. It was times like these, when the heat was getting to everybody, that he was glad he was impervious to hot and cold.

As Klaus was about to close the blinds hanging above the window in order to get some work done, a faint noise assaulted his ears. It wasn't loud, per say, but it sounded wretched. High-pitched and whiny. He waited a few moments. Perhaps the sound would reappear, but two minutes flew by without a peep.

Closing the blinds, Klaus heard it again. The noise was desperate. Scared.

Ten years ago— _two_ years ago—he would have ignored it. Pretended he was imagining things, or maybe he would enjoy listening to the pitiful cries of whatever creature was making those sounds. Unfortunately for him, this was not ten years ago. This was now. And now he had a heart, and what a damned thing it was.

Klaus sped out of the room and down the steps, slamming the front door behind him as he shot in the direction the cries were originating. He followed the whimpers into the trees until they were so loud in his hybrid ears he could hear nothing else. Darkness had spread across the sky, which was strangely clear and starlit, but he was Niklaus Mikaelson, and he could see in the black-tinted woods.

He scanned the leafy floor. Soon, his hybrid vision picked up a trembling animal on the ground. Fear secreted from the creature in large waves, though it was barely the size of the tree stump it cowered behind. Creeping closer to the terrified animal, an odd sense of compassion washed over him. He wasn't sure if he liked it.

"Shh," he whispered, though he wasn't entirely positive why. "Don't worry," he told it, "I won't hurt you."

The animal looked up at him, and Klaus's heart fell into his stomach. He couldn't tell the colouring, nor the breed, but there was no mistaking those big brown eyes for anything else.

He had stumbled upon a lost puppy.

Great.

* * *

Whoever the people were that picked up the phones at the animal shelters were the people steadily tiptoeing to the top of his kill list. He had been on the phone with this particular shelter for nearly ten minutes and nothing had come of it. The woman—Shirley—didn't seem to know anything about dogs. Nor did she appear to know how to do her job properly.

"You say his coat is brown?" Shirley asked, not for the first time.

Klaus sighed, shooing the pup away as it tried to nudge his leg. "Yes," he said…again. He wiped his face and stared down at the dog. Its coat was definitely brown. Maybe. "Wait, it's more of a…a reddish brown. Like…rust, I suppose."

Rusty the Dog seemed to know Klaus was talking about him, because he sat quietly in front of the Original on the white carpet, his eyes wide. The fear rolling off of him had died down a bit, but it had been replaced with something akin to fondness. Which wasn't good at all.

Klaus rubbed his face again.

"How big would you say he is? And you're sure its a he?" Shirley checked.

Klaus couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of his mouth. "Yes, it's definitely a _he_. He's roughly the size of a, I don't know. A tree stump . . . ?" Klaus said helplessly.

"A tree stump?"

"Yes," Klaus gritted. He did not like this Shirley woman. "A tree stump."

"What type of tree?"

Klaus inhaled a sharp breath. White, burning anger flashed across his vision. "Is that _really_ a question, Shirley? _Really_? What type of fucking tree? What the fuck kind of question is that? I don't know what fucking kind of tree. The dog's small, that's all I know!" Klaus shouted into the phone before throwing it across the room and watching as it shattered against the wall.

The puppy jumped, letting out a sharp cry. Panic began gushing out of him once more.

"Sorry," Klaus said despondently. "Shirley was absolutely no help at all."

Getting on his knees, Klaus clicked his tongue, his eyes widening ever-so-slightly as the dog slunk toward him. He really was small, the dog. With paws too big and eyes too warm. Klaus absently scratched the scruff around his neck where no collar jingled.

He'd called three animal shelters to check if anybody had reported a lost brown dog, but had gotten nowhere. Shirley was his last attempt and definitely the biggest failure. He wondered if he could hide the dog somewhere in the house for the night and go searching for the owners tomorrow. Just so Caroline wouldn't find him and decide to fall in love.

But he didn't know if the dog had owners. And if he did, they clearly weren't very good at taking of him. As he scratched the puppy, Klaus could feel ribs and hip bones poking through the soft fur.

"Klaus? Where are you?"

"Shit," Klaus breathed, scrambling to his feet.

He hadn't heard Caroline come home.

This was _really_ not good.

Klaus looked down at the puppy and bit his lip. Where could he hide the thing? Probably nowhere, considering how much of a whiner it seemed to be. Maybe he could tell Caroline they were keeping it for a friend. No, she wouldn't believe that. He didn't have any friends.

"Klaus? Are you in your office?" Caroline's sweet voice was music to his tired ears, but his heart thudded furiously in chest. Anxiety pricked his skin.

Klaus's eyes darted around frantically, looking for something. Anything. Divine intervention, if nothing else.

The love of his life was walking up the stairs, closer and closer to him and the dog. The only thing he could think to do was throw the dog out of the window, but one look at the pathetic beast and he knew that option was off the table.

"You're not hiding something from me, are you? Is Camille in there with you?" Caroline joked, her steps growing louder. "Come on, Nikky-boy, I know you're home. Stop trying to hide—"

He had run out of options. He knew it the moment Caroline opened the door to his office, blue eyes immediately landing on the dog by his feet.

Her sentence hung unfinished in the air. Silence engulfed the room. Even the dog seemed to know it was time to keep quiet.

"What is that?" Caroline asked breathlessly, pointing to the dog. As if Klaus didn't know what she was referring to.

For a moment Klaus stared at her, his mind blank. She looked beautiful tonight. She always did, but especially tonight. Purple cloth clung to her curves, a colour that managed to bring out both the paleness of her skin and the magnificent shade of her eyes.

Swallowing convulsively, Klaus peered at the dog. "This," he said casually. It probably wasn't casual, but he was trying. "This is a dog."

"I can see that," she said in disbelief, "but what is it doing in our house?"

Klaus contemplated lying to her, but he could only think of that stupid "we're keeping it for someone" story, which she wouldn't believe for a moment. Besides, they were in a committed relationship. Elijah liked to remind him of that all the goddamned time. Honesty was the foundation of any good relationship.

So, he told her the truth. And then she cried.

"Can we keep him?" she begged, falling to the floor and wrapping her arms around the dog, who seemed more than happy to kiss Caroline's ass by licking her face and wagging his tail.

"Caroline," he started halfheartedly, "he's just gonna—"

"—Die," Caroline finished for him, sitting tall on her knees, a defiant air surrounding her. "I know he's going to die someday, but he looks no more than eight weeks old. And Irish setter's live for a good thirteen years, so if we keep him healthy and never stop loving him, we can get him for thirteen years. That's a lot of years."

Thirteen years was nothing. Not when you lived forever. Not for them.

Caroline was watching him intently. He must have his thinking face on, otherwise she would have continued her spiel.

"It's an Irish setter?" Klaus found himself asking. He sat next to Caroline, who lowered herself to the floor. She curled next to Klaus, resting her sweet-smelling head against his arm.

"Yep," she said, and he didn't need to see her to know she had a wide smile on her face. "Probably an Irish setter/Golden retriever mix, but if not, then definitely an Irish setter."

Wrapping his arm around her, Klaus pulled Caroline closer to him and planted a kiss firmly against her hair.

"What if he already has an owner?" he asked, knowing it may be an issue.

Caroline, though, shook her head. "This dog doesn't know love yet," she informed him, like she could read the puppy's mind. "He's ours, end of story."

Klaus sat there for a moment, mulling it over. The dog nosed his free hand, eyes glittering with hope and a little bit of mischief.

"Yeah," he sighed, defeated, "end of story."

* * *

"Rusty, stop it," Klaus muttered, pushing the dog's head out of the way. Nothing stopped the bugger, though, and two seconds later Klaus had a line of saliva running down his cheek.

Opening his eyes, Klaus came face to face with the world's biggest dog. No contest. He spotted Caroline standing in the doorway still in her pyjamas.

"This reminds me," Caroline said, mug of blood in hand, "of that bit in _The Mask_ when Milo's waking Stanley up in the middle of his dream."

Despite himself, Klaus grinned as Rusty laid his heavy head on his chest. "Who said I was dreaming about you?" he asked, remembering the scene in question. He began stroking Rusty's neck.

Caroline smiled coyly back. "If the three times you said my name in your sleep isn't enough proof, then that boner you're sporting surely supports my hypothesis."

"It's the morning," Klaus groaned, closing his eyes. "Definitely doesn't count."

When he opened his eyes again, Caroline was kneeling by the bed, hand inching down his chest. Chin resting on his shoulder, a half-smile playing with the corner of her mouth.

"It definitely counts," she hushed. She smelled of warm blood and everything nice in the world, and he was so in love with her it hurt.

Or maybe that was just the painful hard-on.

Klaus's excitement level increased as Caroline's hand traced his stomach muscles, which contracted at her touch. He leaned over to kiss her and was met with the distinct flavour of pennies dancing around on his tongue.

"You taste good," he moaned as her nails reached his bellybutton.

Before anything really thrilling could happen, something heavy stepped on Klaus's belly, nearly knocking the wind out of him. "Oof," he grumbled, pulling away from Caroline. "Rusty, you son of a bitch," he chastised.

Klaus sat up, ready to shout at the dog for ruining the moment, but Caroline's shriek of laughter stopped him in his tracks. Scowling, he cocked his head in her direction. Water welled in Caroline's eyes, her hand covered her mouth.

"I'm sorry," she gasped between fits. His boner was 100% gone now. "That was just really funny."

"Yeah, I gathered," he bit sarcastically, throwing the covers off his naked body. He stood and walked to his dresser, grabbing a T-shirt and some boxers.

Rusty followed close behind. Since they'd rescued the setter six months ago, he seemed to know who was boss. Or, as Caroline said, he knew exactly who had saved him from poverty.

"Come on, Rusty," he called, "let's leave the crazy woman to her cackling."

"Hey!" Caroline bellowed as Klaus took Rusty out of the room. "I don't cackle!"

Picking up Rusty's tennis ball on the table outside their bedroom, Klaus chuckled. "Of course you don't, love. Not at all."

Caroline was next to him in no time. Grabbing the ball from his hand, she sped up and instantly managed to win over Rusty's affections.

Rusty ran after her, panting.

Klaus took his time. He heard Rusty barking outside and pictured him waiting impatiently for Caroline to throw the ball for him. She was such a tease, even with the dog.

Once outside, Klaus stood back and let the two play around. He would never admit it aloud, but he adored Rusty. The puppy had slipped into his heart without him even realising it.

Caroline liked to say it was fate that Rusty wandered into their woods, but Klaus wasn't so sure. He believed in fate a little, especially when it came to Caroline. But mostly he ignored the idea. Sure, Caroline had cheered up in the months since Rusty came along, and she didn't mention Liz so much anymore, but it wasn't as if she was terribly depressed beforehand.

"I meant it was fate that _you_ found him, by the way," Caroline said after some time had passed. Neither she nor Rusty seemed anywhere near stopping, though.

Klaus snapped his attention to Caroline. "What?"

"You were talking about fate and Rusty . . ."

"Was I?" he asked, frowning.

The baby vampire smiled at him. "You do that sometimes. Talk out loud. I think it's because you're so used to talking to yourself that you forget other people are around."

Klaus shook his head and a blinked rapidly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to do it."

Crouching down to pick up Rusty's ball, Caroline threw it into the woods and once again smiled at him as Rusty bolted after the ball. "I like it."

She returned to the game after that, not mentioning what she'd heard again.

 _It was fate that_ you _found him_. That was what she had said.

That wasn't right, though. He was close to ignoring the dog, to leaving it. Fate didn't have a hand in it. Caroline did. She taught him to care, and so he found himself caring about the helpless animal in the woods.

But as he watched Rusty and Caroline playing with the tennis ball, as he watched how quickly Rusty ran after it, and how he came back to them even quicker, he couldn't help but think she was maybe a little bit right.

Maybe he was drawn to the dog, to his whines, because he could sense a kinship between them, already there. As if it had been there for all time. Because they were both lost.

All three of them were lost, really. He had been lost for the better part of a millennia. Caroline, his sweet love, had been lost ever since her mother's death. And the pup, abandoned and alone, knew nothing of warm beds and loving hands—he had been alone all of his short life. So, together, maybe they could be a little less lonely. A little less lost.

* * *

 _"But are we all lost stars,_

 _Trying to light up the dark?"_

* * *

 **A/N 2: Thanks for reading! Review if you feel like it. I won't hold it against you if you don't :)**

 **Also, if you've never heard the song "Lost Stars" or if you've never seen _Begin Again_ , I highly suggest doing one or the other. **


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